LullaBYE
by p0ck3tf0x
Summary: It had started as a game, but somehow became so much more. It was easier to disappear and leave Canada to clean up the mess, so why did he care? 'Goodbyes' were for the weak, but a lullaby was somehow worse.  One shot.


_Summary: It had started as a game, but somehow became so much more. It was easier to disappear and leave Canada to clean up the mess, so why did he care? 'Goodbyes' were for the weak, but a lullaby was somehow worse. When had he become so pathetically sentimental?_

_Hetalia does not belong to me. Neither do any of the countries mentioned. Get back to me after 'World Domination Phase 3' is complete._

**Lulla(bye)**

His lover lay draped over him in exhausted abandon; tousled and bruised from their night of passion. His blonde curls were sprawled across the silk sheets as he slept, crowning his head in a halo of gold. His cheeks were still flushed as he worried his swollen lips and moaned faintly in his sleep.

Prussia combed his fingers through his tresses and smiled when Canada moaned again and shifted closer. What could he have possibly done to deserve this? He had sinned so often and so completely, and yet, for some odd reason, he was blessed to be laying in the afterglow with an angel in his arms. Prussia slipped his fingers lower in fascination and traced the love bites decorating his collarbone like fine jewellery. His fingers swept lower still, under the sheets, and danced over the livid scratches on his hips. Each hurt was a reminder; every wound was a promise.

It was his promise to Canada to always come back before the scars faded. It was not a fairy tale romance, but it was certainly more than Prussia deserved.

It had started as a game; a quick fuck to pass the time; two lonely men with too much time on their hands. Prussia would take and take and take before disappearing and leaving Canada to clean up the mess.

No 'goodbyes'. Goodbyes were for the weak.

He would bite and scratch and abuse the nation before sneaking through the back door and into the night. And perhaps, when he was gone, Canada would try and wash him off in the shower.

Still, he always came back for more, and Canada was always more than willing to give it to him. He would be waiting with a soft, delicate smile and even softer whispers. He would cherish the brutal kisses and every harsh thrust. His eyes would twinkle and he would lightly kiss Prussia on the forehead in the midst of the fervour, whispering something under his breath too quietly to be heard.

And he was too gentle.

Prussia would leave feeling filthy and cruel, but he always came back for more; Canada was his favourite drug. It had gone on like this; a revolving door of use and abuse, for several decades before their relationship had slowly but surely started to shift and change.

He was not exactly certain of when it had started to change. It must have been when he had finally caught that last sighing whisper.

"I want you."

Those three little words haunted him. There were no expectations in those words; he was never meant to hear them. The words were raw and unrefined and a bit desperate. That last sigh was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

It had been so long since anyone had wanted him, and only him. He was no longer a nation; the only thing he had to offer was himself. And Canada wanted _him_. All of him; his faults, his mistakes, his scars. All of him.

How… Unexpected.

Prussia began to wait longer and longer before leaving; testing the boundaries of their relationship. Canada seemed confused by the change, but genuinely pleased. In the beginning, it took everything he had to simply lay with Canada in the afterglow of sex and not bolt for the door. Soon, he actually began to enjoy the quiet moments. It was even more difficult for him to fill those quiet moments with meaningless chatter and pillow talk, but he tried. He never spoke of anything important; only boasts, expectations, and complaints, but it was a surprising development after centuries of jealously guarding every emotion. In return, Canada shared his pains, worries, and hopes. For every bit of himself given, Canada would share another secret.

It was a level of intimacy that he had never experienced and it was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

Prussia knew that he was at the point of no return when he caught himself humming lullabies to the sleeping man by the light of early morning, before disappearing through the back door yet again.

It was not a 'goodbye', but it was just as pathetic.

Prussia found himself singing the tender lullabies that Germania had sung to him, and the lullabies that he himself had sung to his younger brother. These lullabies were the precious memories of a person he no longer was, and had not been for centuries.

Somehow, it only seemed fitting that he share them with Canada now.

He would always wait until his lover was sleeping; damp and tangled in the mess they had made. Prussia would hum a few chords and wait. Hum a few more chords and wait again until he was absolutely sure that Canada was soundly asleep.

All of his lullabies were traditional Germanic melodies, except for one that was in an even older, long forgotten language. He sang haltingly at first, unsure and nervous. He felt exposed, but as Canada snuggled closer to him and moaned quietly, he relaxed.

Once became twice; twice became a weekly occurrence. Soon, it was every night; always before disappearing into the night. He sang the goodbyes he could not bring himself to say.

And so, here he was; singing soft lullabies and dreading the moment when he would have to leave. He ran his fingers through the blonde curls and wondered when it had all changed. He wondered when he had begun to care.

The last shaking note left his lips and Prussia cursed a little too loudly. When had he become so pathetically sentimental?

When had he fallen in love?

Unfocused, violet eyes snapped open at the sound of the muttered curse, only to crinkle in pleasure upon finding Prussia tenderly tangled in his hair. Canada smiled drowsily and snatched his hand; winding their fingers together instead. Prussia felt his heart swell as he smiled back.

It did not really matter when, or why. Prussia had long since abandoned all hope of finding love in this lifetime, but now chance had brought them together and the unexpected had brought them closer. Prussia would be damned if he let Canada slip through his fingers.

Canada sat up and the silk sheet slid dangerously low. He was bathed in the moonlight cascading through the window and absolutely stunning.

"You stopped singing…"

Shit. He had been caught.

"Ah. You heard that?"

"Mmhmm."

Prussia groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose in embarrassment. Canada laughed.

"I love it when you sing to me." Canada leant forward and kissed his forehead gently.

The sheet slid off of him completely and slithered over the edge of the bed as he crawled into Prussia's lap; naked and bruised and lovely.

"I want you," he whispered, still so softly; those three little words that had changed everything. Prussia closed the distance, humming tickling lullabies against his lips as they tumbled into the sheets and pillows.

Maybe tonight would be the night. Tonight might finally be the night he stayed the whole night through.

Canada cradled his face and kissed him with teeth; frantic and wild and somehow still endearing.

Yes, tonight might just be the night when he would not have to sing 'goodbye'.

Prussia returned the kisses with equal enthusiasm; leaving _reminders_ and _promises _dusting his skin, although he had already decided against leaving. Canada was humming back against his lips between kisses as they made beautiful, breathless music together.

There were no more 'goodbyes', but he would always sing lullabies.

For him.

For the one who had changed everything.

For Canada.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Author's Notes:<em>**

_So... Yes, I have no excuse for this. I wanted to write a bit of an inner monologue, and wax poetic, while addressing the evolution of a relationship; from f*cking to making love. It's fluff. Oh god, and is it achingly sweet. Yuck. I wanted to write a softer side of Prussia. I wanted to write him as sentimental, which I think that he would be, but embarrassed by such supposed 'weakness', which I also think he would be. _

_For those of you patiently waiting for updates, you have my sympathies. I have been working on **Tired of Waiting** but... Well... Yeah. I need to outline the chapters a little better and rewrite sections. My writing style has changed somewhat, not to mention that writing chapters is new and dangerous territory for me. Please continue to be patient with me. I promise to work hard! In the meantime, I am posting two (short) oneshots because I have been M.I.A. for a little while now. I have not uploaded anything since **I Only Smoke When I'm With You**, which, if you have not already read, I do recommend. As for those who I owe review replies and messages, I am so sorry! Life is... Odd, to say the least, and conspiring against me to say the most. I've been through a lot recently, and sometimes it catches up to me. I promise to get back to you as soon as possible. I adore you!_

_Please leave a review and feel free to offer opinions, advice, or criticism. All are welcome. Feel free to leave an anonymous review, I do not mind, just please let me know what you think of this story._


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